


coming up now out of the blue.

by holdingnotoyou



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Band, Car Accidents, Death, Drug Abuse, Engagement, Falling In Love, Family Issues, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Minor Character Death, Recovery, Recreational Drug Use, Religious Guilt, Suicide, kind of.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 03:10:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17296628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holdingnotoyou/pseuds/holdingnotoyou
Summary: Tyler scoffs and all eyes are drawn to him.Of course death is a hard subject.





	coming up now out of the blue.

**Author's Note:**

> this is a vent fic presented to you in a stream of consciousness, unbetaed and mostly untouched. 
> 
> this is no-band, exists in the world of this timeline i've crafted out of my own hands from words my own brain made because tyler is my muse and fuck the rest, okay??? okay. 
> 
> sorry. i have better things coming.

Tyler Joseph is eight years old when he witnesses his first suicide. His brain processes it in slow motion, almost in the way that movies portray the main character witnessing a death. 

He remembers getting off the bus, strolling home alongside his brother and talking in hushed whispers about how they were going to try to convince their mom to let them sleep over at Caleb's house, the one down the street with the blue shudders and the overgrown garden. Caleb's mom always insists she's going to take care of it, and his dad always tells his mom to just hire a service to clean the whole thing out so she can start over. It's a chill September day and he can still feel the impending rain in the air, the dark clouds loom and wait for there to be a perfect moment to open up and spill onto the Columbus suburbs. 

It's an odd commotion as he approaches the house; through the white silk curtains he can see his mother following his uncle around, both of them yelling at each other. He gets closer and closer and he can hear the panic in his mother's voice; he turns on his heel and tells Zack to stay where he is, _just give me a moment, okay? I want to make sure everything's okay_ and he approaches the door with less caution than he should. 

He twists the knob and opens the door and the very moment he makes eye contact with his uncle is the moment the trigger is pulled and Tyler only remembers the screams of his mother, his brother's hands wrapping around his shoulders and pulling him away from the door, and seeing his neighbor from across the street rush over to collect the boys. He remembers his baby brother screaming in the other room from the sudden noise, and he tries to insist that _please, I just need to get Jay, please, please_ , but his neighbor sits him down at her kitchen table and insists she'll go, _okay, Tyler, everything's fine, your hands are shaking, I'll go._  For what it's worth, she's a nice woman. 

Tyler doesn't cry when Zack does. Tyler sits at the table with his shaking hands and stares into nothing; he thinks Zack is overreacting, thinks that _everything is fine this is just a bad dream_ , thinks _where is dad I need my dad_. His neighbor comes back with Jay tucked against her chest and there's a spot of blood on her shirt and Tyler barely makes it to the sink before he throws up. She tells him in a soothing voice that _it's fine_ and Tyler doesn't have the energy in his body to push away the hand that settles on top of his head; she's not close enough to the family to know that Tyler doesn't like having his hair pet like he's some kind of cat, and he's not rude enough to tell her otherwise. 

His dad shows up twenty minutes after the police do, on the dot because Tyler was counting instead of throwing up again, and he watches his dad disappear into the house for a few long moments until he comes back out, looking pale with a friendly enough police officer beside him looking like they're explaining the situation. Tyler's dad makes eye contact with him through the window and where Tyler would usually light up at seeing his father home from work early, there's a dreadful pit in the center of his stomach that makes him turn away. When his dad finally arrives at the door, ready to whisk his children away with the promise of staying in a fun hotel that night, one with a pool!, Tyler's monotone and robotic. Later, his therapist will tell him it was his body trying to protect him from what he'd seen. 

He doesn't see his mom until later that night, not until his dad tells him that he needs to keep an eye on Zack, Maddy, and Jay because he has to go pick her up from the hospital where she'd been assessed for the apparent bruises her brother had given her earlier that day. He doesn't learn that part until later in life, with his mother's sorrowful face recounting the story of her lost brother. They return at three thirty eight in the morning and he sits up the moment she walks in, the rest of his siblings fast asleep while she settles into the bed next to Tyler in her clothes and apologizes while holding him. He doesn't know why she's sorry. She's not the one who committed a sin by killing herself. Her breath hitches when he tells her that much and his father scolds him, _watch your mouth,_   _Tyler Robert_. His mother is quick to defend him, telling her husband how Tyler has _suffered just as much as she has_ , _just as much as they all had_ , and he doesn't know why everyone is so angry at each other.

He doesn't sleep that night, and he doesn't go to school the next day. He doesn't sleep that night, either, nor does he go to school the day after. It's a cycle that repeats itself over and over, only being partially broken a week and a half later when he hears his father yelling down the stairs about how _if every other kid in the house can go to school, so can Tyler_. He doesn't sleep that night, but he goes to school the next day. 

+

Tyler is twelve when the neighbor across the street's eldest daughter, the one visiting her for fall break from college, is found in her bedroom dead from a drug overdose. He remembers where he's sat on the couch in the living room, watching Bugs Bunny run across the television screen and he feels a moment of bliss before the phone rings and his mother, cheerful as she may be, answers it and her face immediately falls. 

No one in his family is hard of hearing but they all still insist on having the receiver on the loudest possible setting, so he hears the entire conversation between his neighbor and his mother; she's still got two of her other kids at her house, my _nine year old and my thirteen year old,_ and _please Kelly can I bring them over I can't have them here right now do you remember Tyler and Zack—_

His mother says _yes_ and tells her that she'll be over momentarily to bring the kids back to her place. _We have a pullout couch, I'll be happy to make it up so you don't have to worry about the kids until the morning, okay, please Catherine, it's fine just stay with Samantha as long as you need it will all be fine_. Nothing will be fine, Tyler wants to scream, wants to take the receiver from his mother and tell Catherine that _Samantha is dead just like his uncle is and that nothing will ever be fine ever again because you'll see reminders of her in everything and of everyone because she was your kid and you have two other kids and I see my uncle in my mother's face every day and it sucks_. It sucks. 

Tyler turns off the television and relocates to the loveseat while his mother makes up the pullout couch and tells Tyler she'll be right back, okay, as she scurries across the street and collects his neighbors youngest children. They look like they've seen a ghost and a part of Tyler really understands because he knows that's exactly how he looked once he saw his uncle blow his brains out. His mother shoots Tyler a glare and tells him _not appropriate, Tyler Robert Joseph, go to your bedroom right now. We'll talk about this later_ and it's only then that Tyler realizes he's vocalized his thoughts. He apologizes to his neighbors in a quiet voice, returns to his bedroom and sighs when he notices Zack is already asleep. He'll have to fill his brother in during breakfast, as long as the neighbors aren't awake and won't be stung with the reminder of the death of their sister. 

He doesn't sleep that night, lets his mother scold him in a quiet tone for being so disrespectful and _I know you can't control your emotions or your thoughts but you can control whether or not you say them to other people who are hurting_. He goes to school because his neighbors can't and he figures God will forgive him for being so disrespectful. 

+

Tyler is fourteen and in his mathematics class when the loudspeaker crinkles and his principal's solemn voice floods through. He thinks it's just going to be another morning announcement about some stupid food drive or costume contest since Halloween is coming up, one they forgot to tack onto the actual morning announcements that had run less than thirty minutes ago. 

Instead, he's met with the announcement that Devin, the kid who sits across the room from him in said mathematics class, had been in a car accident earlier in the morning and didn't survive. There are gasps heard from around the room and everyone's eyes seem to meet Devin's seat at the exact same time, the room falling into a silence that could only be shattered by the loudspeaker. His principal mentions that _there will be grief counselors on campus throughout the next two days if anyone who knew and loved Devin needed them, or if anyone struggling with anything needed someone to talk to in case death was a hard subject._

Tyler scoffs and all eyes are drawn to him. _Of course death is a hard subject_ , he mutters, and a few people nod in agreement while other's dig their eyes into him like they're rabid animals trying to tear him apart. He makes it halfway through his math class before he ends up in the hallway with his head in the nearest trashcan, and his teacher is telling him to _go to the nurse, call your mom, go home, Tyler_. He tries to insist that _no, I'm fine, I didn't even know Devin that well, my stomach is just upset_ , but with wilted eyes his teacher shakes her head, _you're not going back into my classroom smelling like vomit. I'll send someone down to the nurse with your backpack and your water bottle, I'll see you when you're better, Tyle_ r.

He goes home with his backpack and his water bottle and he doesn't speak to his mom the entire car ride home, despite how hard she tries. She tries to tell him _it's normal to be upset over a friend's death_ , he laughs and murmurs for the first time, _not a friend_. Because Devin wasn't a friend and Tyler's not upset over Devin's death, Tyler's upset over something he doesn't even know, something he's not entirely sure he can be upset over because who is he to say that experiencing death in some capacity three times in the span of six years isn't normal. 

He goes to the bedroom he shares with Zack and doesn't lock the door because there is no lock on his door, just pops a piece of gum into his mouth and lies face first on his twin sized bed until he doesn't feel like he's drowning in the abyss of a night-black sea, being pulled downward and downward by the anchor tied around his ankles. After twenty two minutes, it feels like he can somewhat breathe again and he feels somewhat normal in the head again until he makes the mistake of looking at the comments on an Instagram post one of Devin's friends already made in memoriam of him. 

_kyleez___ i heard it was a suicide_

_kyleez___ like he ran into a median on the highway going 90 and died on impact_

_heather88293 ^^ same. that's what a report my mom said she found was saying._

_tannergfootball99 @kyleez___ @heather88293 can you guys stop speculating his fucking death, you're sick. blocked._

_Agreed, TannerGFootball99_ , Tyler thinks as he rushes to the bathroom and dry heaves into the toilet bowl until his mother has to bring him back to bed with a cool compress and tell him to _lay down, Tyler, get some rest, you'll feel better in the morning_. He doesn't feel better in the morning, because he doesn't get some rest and rather stays up all night finding out all of the theories and information that he can find on Devin's death, and he doesn't go to school the next day so he doesn't have to attend his first hour class smelling like vomit. He doesn't rest that night, either, or go to school the day after that. He takes another week and a half off until his mother tells him he has to go back, _he wasn't even a friend, remember?_

He doesn't even justify that with a response, splashes cold water onto his face and throws on a hoodie.

+

Tyler's fifteen when his aunt, his _aunt_ , the poor woman who had to bury her husband seven years ago, travels to Oregon to partake in an assisted suicide program because, _Tyler_ , his mother tells him through teary eyes and an unforgiving voice, _she wanted to have mercy as she died_.

She wanted the final say in how and where and why her life ended. Tyler feels like, _yeah, sure, maybe that's fair enough_ but she was the last lingering uncorrupted piece of his uncle that Tyler had left and now that's been ripped from his hands like a day old newspaper. _You can't be mad at her,_ Maddy says and her hair is in pigtails and Tyler has never been so angry at another person in his life. He tells her to _fuck off, Maddy, you don't even know what you're talking about_ , and his mother scorns him and shoos him to the backyard. _You owe me 500 baskets, and don't try to act like a jackass._

His cheeks are flushed pink with embarrassment and his mom doesn't even care that he's not in basketball shorts, he's in khaki pants and _this is totally unfair_. He apologizes to Maddy and wipes away her tears when he's done, when the anger has subsided and turned into guilt and sadness and anxiety because there's another person to add to the tally of people he's lost at their own free will. His aunt dies on a September day, one much like her late husband's death day, and Tyler doesn't tell his mother but he believes that was her intention. She always had believed in superstition and karma and all of the bullshit that came with it. Maybe she believed if their dying days were similar, then they'd meet quicker in the afterlife. 

He doesn't throw up that night. He sleeps that night. He goes to school the next day. 

+

Tyler's seventeen and he does drugs even though he spent the good majority of his formative years in the D.A.R.E. program and spent every Sunday going to mass with his family and then sitting in Sunday school for three hours learning about Jesus and the dangers of straying away from living a good, wholesome life. It's nothing hard, like some of his friends do, rather just enough weed to subside the pain that gnaws at his chest every waking hour and it helps curve his insomnia so he can sleep better at night. Or sleep at all. 

His drug dealer goes to a school three towns over, so he takes the bus every weekend until he has a car he can drive, and even then he still takes the bus most of the time so he doesn't do anything stupid like drive his car ninety miles per hour down the highway and crash his car into the median between the lanes. He drinks, too, because people seem to consider that a drug and he thinks, yeah, maybe, as he shotguns his third beer of the night and slumps back on the couch while he watches the light dance across the glass it's reflecting off of and time moves too slowly with his eyes open and too quickly when they're closed. 

No one knows where he is; his mother and father believe he's out on his first date with a beautiful girl named Jenna who has a perky breasts and a nice smile and long blonde hair and tells his mother hello every time she calls him on the phone to ask him about their geology homework, while his siblings all believe he's off at the movies with his best friends and they're seeing the new gory zombie movie that he can sneak into because he has friends who have fake IDs. Everyone in his family thinks he's off being much cooler than he actually is, and he prefers it that way. He doesn't need his siblings or his parents know he's sitting on the couch in some random person's basement at a shitty, shitty house party that's made up of mostly sweaty dudes passing around blunts and drinking vodka straight from the bottle.  He's high and he's drunk and there's no pain at all.

Not until he hears a piercing scream coming from upstairs and the entire flock moves to the bathroom in the foyer where one of the people he doesn't know is laying, choking on their own vomit, and someone's telling everyone to scram, I have to call the police and then I have to call my mom, and Tyler's world moves in slow motion again but this time it's not from grief, it's kind of just because he's so high his brain doesn't know how to process anything and he's pretty lucky that his dealer isn't the one hosting the party. Rather, he's offered a ride to the bus station and he goes home and tries not to pretend like he just saw someone die on the bathroom floor of a shitty, shitty house party from alcohol poisoning. It's what his dealer tells him the next day over text while Tyler's sitting in the bathroom at school, throwing up into the toilet of the stall at the very end of the row and all he can manage to text back is _please lose my number. I can't anymore_. 

He receives a thumbs up in response, quickly followed by a _sorry, man, reach out if you ever decide you need anything else_. He pockets his phone and dry heaves again. 

+

Tyler is twenty one and he thinks, _maybe, it's time_. 

He's a month out from graduating college and he's four years sober— _straightedge_ , his brother laughs at him behind the bottle of a beer and Tyler doesn't say anything—and life is hard. He's getting a degree in sports communications and he wakes up every day desperately wanting to not be awake, and _what kind of way is that to live your life?_ He would argue that it's no way to live your life, but he doesn't really have a choice because he's a month away from graduating and he's got all A's and B's and his mother will kill him if before he seriously thinks about killing himself. 

 _Do you think it's worth it to be alive?_ His head lolls back against the mattress behind his head, and he tries to focus on the way the carpet feels beneath him, the way that his fingers press into his own thighs as he tries to get them to stop shaking, the way that his breath comes in small pants. Zack isn't paying attention to him anymore, but the guy that Tyler's seen watching him all night does—he's conveniently sat across from Tyler on the carpet, close enough that if Tyler shifted his knee they'd be touching, and he feels miserable because the guy is so pretty and he makes Tyler's heart do something funny and, god, he wants to die _so badly_. 

 _What are you even asking? Are you drunk?_ The guy himself is pretty tipsy, has a hard enough time not slurring his words together, and Tyler shakes his head because _no, I'm not, I'm four years sober_.

_You're too young to be four years sober._

_I saw someone die. I'm not too young._

_What do you mean you saw someone die?_ A swirl of the beer in a cup, a tilt of the head as the guy downs the rest of it in one swig. Tyler stares at him because the question is stupid and _what do you think I mean?_  The guy shrugs as if to say _the question still stands_ and Tyler rolls his eyes, lets his head drift the other way and tries to focus on the posters covering the back of the door of the basement door and tries not to cry. 

_So, you saw someone die and you're four years sober. Are you going to kill yourself?_

Tyler laughs, cheeks wet and head refusing to move back to look at the guy. _Are you always this blunt, or are you just really drunk?_

The guy laughs, too. _'m just really drunk. I would be a lot nicer if I wasn't, sorry._

 _I'll just have to talk to you again when you're sober then_ , Tyler muses, _What's your name?_

 _Josh_ , the guy grins, _you're not going to kill yourself tonight, right?_

Tyler thinks _maybe I am_ , but looks over at the guy and shakes his head because  _no, that'd be selfish_. 

 _Suicide isn't selfish_ , Josh hums, _but you're pretty and I want to get to know you, so don't kill yourself tonight._

_You don't want me to kill myself because you think I'm pretty? You sound like the selfish one here. My name's Tyler, by the way._

_Tyler's a good name, but I'm probably going to forget it so you'll have to tell me again tomorrow_ , Josh says as he crushes the cup in his hand and Tyler flinches at the sound of the plastic crunching beneath Josh's palm. _Sorry_. 

 _'s okay_ , Tyler sighs, _you should sleep. If I see you around on campus, I'll tell you my name again._

 _I don't go here_ , Josh scrunches up his face and grins, _I don't have a college degree, or feel the need to get one._ _I just come to these parties because I have friends who go here._

_How am I going to get in touch with you then to remind you of my name?_

_What's your phone number?_   Josh fumbles getting his phone out of his pocket, groaning as he tries to remember his passcode. 

 _I don't have a phone_ , Tyler lies through his teeth. 

 _He has a phone_ , Zack laughs as he reaches out for Josh's phone, typing in what Tyler assumes is his phone number. _Call him tomorrow._ Zack gets off the couch and tells Tyler it's time to drive him home, their apartment is just off campus but _I don't want to die getting hit by a car or something_. Tyler nods and gets off the floor, glancing down at Josh as he feels a hand press against his ankle, a promise of _I'll call you tomorrow_ falling from his lips. He laughs because he knows that Josh won't call. 

He goes back to his apartment with Zack and doesn't sleep. He doesn't go to class the next morning. Josh calls. 

+

Tyler's twenty four and _maybe you should see a therapist_ , Josh says one evening after he brings home take out in the form of shitty Chinese food. Tyler laughs in his face. _I've_ _seen a therapist before, it did nothing for me. A waste of my parent's money and a waste of my time._

 _You saw a therapist when you were nine and your trauma was still fresh and your mind was still working on repressing it,_ Josh says pointedly, _I think it could really help you, Tyler._

 _You really help me_ , Tyler replies and Josh sighs with a _but I'm not trained to help you. I say the wrong things sometimes and you don't speak to me for, like, six hours_. 

 _And_? Tyler doesn't see a problem with that. 

_And we've been dating for a year and a half and you still wake up with nightmares that I'm sure you've been having for a long time before me, Tyler._

_I don't want to, okay? Can you respect that?_ He sets down his chopsticks and opts for a fork—he doesn't know how Josh knows how to use them so well. 

 _No, Ty, I can't_. Tyler looks up because Josh usually bends and Josh really isn't bending this time. _I just—watch you suffer so much. And I think you need to talk to someone because you still ask me all the time about committing suicide and you insist you're happy but you're not, and you miss work all the time because you can't get out of bed. You're lucky the newspaper even still wants you_. 

Tyler's laugh is watery and it's what he needs to hear from Josh, he knows that, _I know._  

 _Just one appointment, please_. Josh sets down his chopsticks and reaches out for Tyler's hand. Their fingers intertwine when Tyler reaches out at the same time. _That's all I ask_.

There's a long pause before Tyler huffs, squeezing Josh's hand lightly. _One. If I don't like it, I'm not going back._ Josh grins like he's just gotten the best news of his life and he stands, leans across the table and kisses Tyler square on the mouth. 

 _One_. 

+

Tyler is twenty five and he goes to therapy once a week on his parent's health insurance and he spends a lot of his time with shaking hands and tear-streaked cheeks and he works on chipping away every negative emotion that's been bottled up for years. He spends a lot of his time not in therapy talking with Josh, and even when Josh can't solve his problems or curb his nightmares or stop his hands from shaking, Josh is still there and that's what matters to Tyler.

Tyler is also twenty five when Josh proposes. 

He's been in therapy for almost a year and Josh tells him all the time about _how proud I am of you, Ty, isn't it cathartic, don't you feel better?_ Maybe Tyler doesn't feel _better_ , but Tyler starts to feel emotions that aren't grief and anger and sadness again. For the first time in years, he smiles and he means it. He shows off his ring to his mother and she hugs him like she always has, his father tells him that Josh is a very good young man and that he trusts Josh. He shows off the ring to his siblings and Maddy cries and Jay congratulates them and Zack asks _aren't you glad I gave him your number?_

The flush on Tyler's cheek is out of pride and out of embarrassment and out of joy and he tells his brother to _fuck off, but yes, I am forever indebted to you._

Zack laughs. _Name your next dog after me, then._ Tyler wants to say _no, no more dogs, Jim is enough_ but Josh excitedly meets his eye over the kitchen counter and Tyler sighs. _Okay, sure._ He can't say no to Josh, that's why they're engaged. When they go home Tyler kisses Josh like he means it. They sit on the couch with Jim after dinner, hair tussled and Tyler's pretty sure his shorts are on inside out, and he looks over at Josh. _Thanks_. He says like it's the simplest thing in the world, and Josh looks at him as if to say _for what?_ before it seems to click. 

Josh nods and leans across the dog, hands on Tyler's cheeks as he presses their lips together, and Tyler grins. _I'm going to marry you._

 _Yeah?_ Josh asks and smiles like he means it.  _I'd sure hope so._

Tyler laughs and drapes his hands around Josh's shoulders, leaning in to press another kiss. _Yeah_. 

Things still aren't perfect and Tyler still has nightmares. He goes to sleep that night and wakes up to go to work, just like he has for the past year and a half. Josh kisses him goodnight, Josh kisses him good morning, Josh calls him at lunch to tell him he loves him and that he's proud and _hey_ , _remember_ , _you_ _have_ _therapy_ _at_ _three_ _thirty_ , _don't_ _be_ _late_. 

He's not late. He picks up dinner on his way home. He goes to sleep that night and wakes up the next morning to go to work.

Things aren't perfect, but Tyler doesn't hold onto the past like he used to. He doesn't think about killing himself during every waking moment.

Things aren't perfect, but they're better and he doesn’t think about death as much as he used to. Josh kisses him when he tells him that. 

**Author's Note:**

> this ended happier than expected. [tumblr](http://clancies.tumblr.com/).


End file.
